


Bullseye

by vampgirltish



Category: GOT7
Genre: Archery, F/M, Friends to Lovers, archery competitions, practice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-04
Updated: 2017-01-04
Packaged: 2018-09-14 15:46:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9190207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vampgirltish/pseuds/vampgirltish
Summary: But at the same time, this competition meant everything to you. Your future was riding on this. You needed this. But now you were... well, you were screwed over.





	

**Author's Note:**

> dedicated to victoria who requested this, and rachel who helped me come up with what the hell to write (and deals with me sending 44 pictures of yugyeom to her every day. literally every day.)

 

Coach had informed you five minutes into practice, a year before the major tournament, that your partner had quit on you. She was offered a scholarship to a prestigious school and chose that over going to the archery championships. You felt hurt, you felt betrayed, but you knew it was for everyone’s own good that it happened. She needed to get a good education... even if that meant you were partnerless in the partnered archery competition. Even if it screwed you over, you were still happy for her. 

But at the same time, this competition meant everything to you. Your future was riding on this. You needed this. But now you were... well, you were screwed over. You had no chance if you didn’t have a partner. Not to say that you weren’t talented because you were. There was a reason you were going to this competition rather than anyone else on your team. Coach continues on in his lecture that you’d zoned out for. 

“We’ve gotten you another partner. Usually the partnered archery groups are unisex, but we had to make an exception both because of skill level and because of time constraints.”

“What?” you said. You had a new partner? “Who is it?”

“Some kid named Yugyeom.”

You’d never heard of him. “Is he any good?”

“Eight-for-ten in singles, and five-for-eight in doubles.”

“...Not bad,” you reply. 

“We were planning to introduce you to him today so you both could start practicing together. You’re alright with that, right?”

“...Yeah. That’s fine I guess.”

“Cool.” Coach calls the guy over. He’s tall, lanky, towering over you easily. He has a bright grin on his face, his face kind and sincere. His hair is dark black, and he offers a hand to you.

“Nice to meet you, I’m uh- Kim Yugyeom. Yugyeom.” He amends himself.

“...Right. Yugyeom. I’m (y/n). Nice to meet you too.” You shake his hand.

“I look forward to partnering with you, (y/n).”

Over the next few months, you and Yugyeom become pretty quick friends. He’s kind, sincere, and always laughing. Optimistic and sure, incredibly funny and sweet. He likes dancing too, singing and cooking and pranks and jokes. He’s so bright and kind, patient with you and everything else.

So to see him being downtrodden was odd. Over the months of practicing techniques, skills, everything else, as the championship grew closer, the face of your partner seemed to sink more. A month before, he is terrified. Babbling to himself, swearing every time he doesn’t hit a bullseye. He has too high expectations of himself, put so much pressure on himself, but yet every time you’d flub and miss a shot he was so patient and soft with you. He was always so quick to say that it was okay, that you’d do fine, but the moment he messed up, it was the end of the world.

He was pushing his dark bangs out of his eyes, fiddling with his bow as he walked circles in place where he was supposed to shoot from. You walked up to him, “Yugyeom?”

He startles, dropping his bow. It was probably safer that way, to avoid accidental shots. “What?” he asks.

“Are you okay?”

“Fine,” he says quickly. Of course that gave it away.

“No you’re not. What’s going on?” He wouldn’t budge that easily, even if he was your best friend. “C’mon. Give it up. You know I just want to help you.”

Yugyeom sighs to himself. “I’m nervous about our championship.”

You rolled your eyes, “Jeez, like that wasn’t painfully obvious. Why? You’re amazing.”

“...I just don’t want to bring you down with my careless mistakes.”

“You’ve missed three shots out of the two hundred you’ve shot today.”

“That’s three shots that could cost us the competition.”

“I’ve missed triple that in half the shots,” you say. “It’s okay to mess up, Gyeom. It’s okay to make mistakes. You and I both know that you have the potential which is why Coach partnered us together. We both are the best in the country. It’s up to us to make our country proud.”

He flinches at this.

“Ah, wait, I didn’t mean that to make you feel pressured. I just mean-- we... we were picked for this because we’re the best and we’re skilled. We’re the ones who were picked for this specifically for our archery skills. You shouldn’t doubt yourself, Gyeom. You’ve got so much talent.”

Yugyeom smiles a little at you and you smile back. “C’mon! Where’s that smile?”

It spreads across his face and soon he’s giggling and babbling about some joke that you both had together. You both were laughing now, and it feels great to see him smiling again. At practices now, you’d always offer him some sort of pep talk, some kind words and encouragement to make him feel more confident again. He knows that you’re nervous too, but you were putting that aside for him. He appreciated that a lot more than you realized.

The night before the competition in the hotel room that you both were sharing, the nerves finally hit you too. You sighed, staring at your suitcase and all of your stuff. Your face was pretty blank, and you were so focused you didn’t hear Yugyeom ask you something.

“Hello? Earth to (y/n)?” he sing-songs.

“What? Huh? S-Sorry.”

“You were zoning out there. What’s going on with you? Pre-champs jitters?”

“More than that, I think,” you say, swallowing nervously. He sits next to you on the edge of the bed, and puts an arm around your shoulder. He just got out of the shower, so he smells fresh and clean. Like shampoo and Old Spice. A familiar scent to you now, what with all the hugs and time you spent with each other. 

“You know, I should just say the same things you say to me when I get like this. We were chosen because of our skill, and we’re both incredibly talented at archery. We both have the skills necessary to win this. I really truly think we can win.”

“You think so?”

“Considering I’ve seen how the others have competed in past competitions, yes. A lot of them make reckless mistakes.”

“Cockiness or nervousness?”

“Either or. One of the two bites them in the ass at some point.”

“You really think we could win this?”

“Absolutely.” Then, with a smile creeping on his face, “With my bullseye shots and your perfect eights, I think we’ll have this in the bag.”

“Oh shut up, you know I shoot the bullseyes in this group.”

He laughs, and you laugh too. What did you have to fear? You had your best friend by your side and you were going to go to the national championship for the sport you loved and dedicated your entire life to.

The next morning, the jitters come back but you don’t doubt yourself. It almost feels like the calm before the storm, the eye of the hurricane, the held, pregnant breath of anticipation. You’re nervous, but not in a bad way. You and Yugyeom ride to the arena hours before the event to warm up, practice, and get ready. Dressing up into uniform, getting your name labels pinned all over you, having your bows and other accessories checked for tampering. Then you’re off to practicing. Yugyeom is shooting well, sevens, eights, bullseyes. You’re shooting a little low today for some reason, eights, sevens, fives. But that was okay. They were mostly high lows, eights and sevens, so you could get away with it. You worked hard anyways to bring the numbers up and managed to scrape up a number, sevens, eights, nines, eliminating your fives by practice. Yugyeom watched the whole time, cheering you on.

Then, people began to file in. The electronic scoreboards were set up. The practice targets were moved, replaced with fresh targets bought by some sponsor, and the athletes were shooed away. You and Yugyeom were put into one of the corners of the supposed green room, your bows taken and held onto so you wouldn’t tamper with them. Not that you would. You weren’t a cheater, and you knew how serious those kinds of crimes were in the archery career. Your career would be over if you dared. But you didn’t.

You waited until your names were called. It was go time. It was you and Yugyeom versus another team, a girl named Claire and another girl named Hannah.You all gathered out in the arena, everyone being announced. You looked up at the scoreboard. Johnson and Florissant versus (y/l/n) and Kim. Your name was on that scoreboard... You were official. What a surreal feeling. You lined up. It would be Hannah and Yugyeom shooting first.

They were each given fifteen arrows to shoot. Hannah shoots 8, 8, 7, 7, 7, 7, 6, 5, 5, 5, 4, 3, 2, 2, 1, for a total of 77. Then Yugyeom shoots. 9, 8, 8, 8, 7, 7, 7, 7, 7, 6, 6, 5, 5, 4, 3. Total 97. A few of them were bouncers, so he had to reshoot them. But already, you were blowing the other team out of the water. You had to hope like hell that you didn’t fuck up and that Claire wasn’t super fantastic at shooting. Claire shoots first. 10, 9, 8, 7, 7, 7, 6, 6, 6, 5, 5, 4, 4, 3, 3, 2. Total 93. One of her arrows went straight through the target, because two other arrows had shot and bounced there. You were nervous. Claire and Hannah’s combined score was 170. You just needed 73 to tie. 74 to win. You hoped like hell you could do it. You looked over at Yugyeom, smiling at you and giving you a thumbs up. He didn’t say good luck, didn’t say anything to give you expectations or force you or make you nervous. He just smiled and you heard his soft, high voice say, “Do your best, (y/n)!”

You smiled as you shot your fifteen. You shot them as best as you could, thankfully not shooting low too much. 10, 10, 9, 9, 8, 8, 8, 6, 6, 6, 6, 5, 4, 4, 3. Total 98. Yours and Yugyeom’s total was 195. You won. You both won. He looks up at the scoreboard to see the “97+98, Total 195” on the board. His face lights up and he drops his bow, loses his composure completely as he runs over to you, hugging you tightly and squealing.

“We did it! We did it, (y/n)!” He hugs you, lifting you off the ground. Coach pops a confetti popper next to you, clapping you both on the back and telling you you both did great. You’re too focused on hugging Yugyeom and smiling. He puts you down and you each take a small step apart, but you’re still pretty close together. His hands are on your forearms, smiling still, that sweet bright smile. 

“We did it,” you agree. “I’m so happy, I swear I could kiss you right now.”

“What?” Yugyeom asks.

You doesn’t say anything, and he look at you. You look away, gently setting down your bow, trying to distract from everything.

“What did you say?”

“I... I said I was so happy I swear I could kiss you.”

He giggles, but he’s still smiling gently at you. He leans forward and kisses you, and you can’t contain your surprise. You kiss briefly, just a moment or two, before he pulls away. Then, because he can’t help but say something stupid, he giggles again and says, “Y’know, out of all the shots I’ve made, I’m glad that one was right on target.”

Bullseye. 


End file.
